


Now That's What I Call Kinky

by Val_Creative



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Related, Ben Hargreeves Lives, Character Death Fix, Episode Related, Episode: e02e10 The End Of Something, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fix-It, Humor, M/M, POV Ben Hargreeves, Post-Season/Series 02, Romantic Friendship, Season/Series 02, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:01:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25811002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Sparrow!Ben meets Klaus and immediately feels compelled to put a blade to his throat. The new timeline is already going great.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 38
Kudos: 331





	Now That's What I Call Kinky

**Author's Note:**

> I AM HERE TO FIX IT. DON'T WORRY. WE STILL GOT OUR BEN. I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR ANYONE'S THOUGHTS ON THIS.

*

_"Shit…"_

All of their voices ring out.

Two women — one shorter and pale, and the tall one with brown skin — gawk open-mouthed at Ben as if they can't believe what they're seeing. A young school-aged boy. Three men. One as huge as a missile. One scowls and fiddles with a knife.

And the last man — looking like a stripper version of The Matrix — he gawks like the women, clasping his hands to his mouth.

Ben has no idea who these assholes are, or what they're doing here, but he heard them clamoring. Everyone did. Not one of the intruders bothered to act stealthy, to disguise their footsteps or lower the volume on their cries of relief.

(A time-portal suitcase? Really?)

"Ben…"

One of the men lurches to snatch onto the back of a jacket.

"Klaus, hold on," the Huge Man whispers. Someone else gasps. "Klaus! _KLAUS_!"

He's ignored by the man called Klaus who navigates around an oak gate-leg table, his expression filling with awe. "Dude, you're alive…" Klaus inhales, staring a frowning Ben up and down. "What the hell is with the 2000s hair…?"

Within moments, Ben reacts, grabbing a silver letter-opener off the table. He flips it in his hand.

The rest of Klaus's group erupts into loud screaming pleas and verbal warnings when Ben presses the newly sharpened edge under Klaus's chin. "Better watch your ass, cowboy," he hisses. Klaus's hat tips when Ben applies a bit of pressure to naked skin, eyeing the other man with distrust. They're close enough to almost graze noses.

"Ohh," Klaus utters, chuckling in soft, warm gusts. Ben's insides somersault. "Now That's What I Call Kinky, Volume One."

"Klaus," the boy groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Oh my god—"

"Are you serious, Klaus—"

_"I told you we should have left him—"_

"Diegoooo," Klaus whines, startling in place when Ben's letter-opener relocates to his jugular. The veins nearest to Ben's fingers bulge. They clench up tightly. Klaus's pulse flutters. There's a scent on him that Ben recognizes as gunpowder.

"Enough," Sir Reginald Hargeeves orders. "They're our guests. You will treat them with the hospitality befitting this Academy."

His tone sends everyone in the room into varying degrees of grimaces. Everyone but Ben who lowers his weapon.

"My apologies," he says quietly, though waspish.

Klaus pouts, straightening his cowboy hat.

*

It's another hour before midnight.

Ben walks the length of a Turkish rug by the fireplace. Blue and lustrous yarn, combining with coppery red, making the heavier colors seem iridescent. He rereads the same line out of Marcel Proust's "In Search of Lost Time" and his mind fades out.

_And I begin again to ask myself what it could have been… this unremembered state which brought with it no logical proof of its existence… but only the sense that it was happy… that it was a real state in whose presence other states of consciousness melted and vanished… I decide to attempt to make it reappear…_

One of the logs crackles, erupting into sparks. Ben glances up to the velvet-lined armchair, snapping shut his novel.

"… Those are the ones, Dad?"

"Bringers of mayhem and destruction as we know it." Sir Reginald Hargreeves removes his monocle, polishing the glass. He sniffs stiffly. "The apocalypse will come to pass. No matter where The Umbrella Academy goes, it shall follow them."

Ben's fingertips sketch absently over maroon leather-casing. He imagines Klaus's pouting, pink mouth.

"If they're here now, the threat can be eradicated," he muses. "Wouldn't we prevent this?"

Sir Reginald Hargreeves turns rigidly in his chair.

"Could you do it?" Ben processes the question in disbelief, his cheeks reddening. "Could you take an innocent life without provocation?" Sir Reginald Hargreeves asks. Ben looks down, saying nothing and refusing eye-contact as his guardian huffs. "You are Number One. You will do as you are told. Now find Carla and inform her about The Hotel mission briefing."

Ben's jaw tightens. He hesitates before staring ruefully into the old man's glare.

"Yes, sir…"

In a whirl of feathery and black shadows, Ben vanishes.

*

Up in the attic, Klaus hunts through multiple drawers to a sideboard. One of those New England Hepplewhite mahogany ones with a satinwood serpentine-front. Only the founder of the elite Sparrow Academy would be pretentious enough to own it.

"Come on, come on," he mutters, rooting around for a hidden drug stash. Even a crushed-up tablet of Bayer.

Klaus jams shut one of the drawers in frustration.

He notices something moving in the corner of his vision. A crow hops on top of the walnut-wood. Large and dark.

It blinks up at Klaus.

"Why… hello there…" Klaus grins, holding up his **HELLO** palm to emphasis the hello. "Nice to see a friendly face around here. Didja get lost, little fella?" He dares to reach out with a finger. Maybe Klaus wants to stroke its glossy, black feathers… maybe he's gonna poke it… who knows. But the crow reacts first, flapping its wings and nipping hard onto Klaus's forefinger.

Klaus yelps.

 _"DAMMIT!"_ he shouts, waving his hand throbbing in pain. " _YAAH!_ Is _EVERYTHING_ in this friggin' hellhole _EVIL_!?"

The crow squawks, taking off into the air.

Ben holds out his left arm, materializing in a _whoosh!_ of black, glossy feathers. His irises glow faintly of blue. The crow flies to his wrist, where Ben's hand appears missing from his sleeve. It converges into a shadowy mass to reattach to Ben's wrist. He massages his restored hand, wincing at the burning-hot prickle running through his fingers. Fuck. That hurts.

Klaus straightens up, no longer waving his hand around. His mouth hangs open.

"Holy bag of dicks…"

"Who in the hell are you? And how did you know my name?" Ben accuses.

Those hazel-green eyes squint. Klaus cocks an eyebrow.

_"Ex-squeeze me?"_

"Don't play dumb. You said my name earlier."

On the floor below, the rest of the Umbrella Academy group together to plan what to do. About their so-called apocalypse. _Whatever_ is coming. Klaus either doesn't care or has accepted the inevitable. That, or none of them want him in the discussion.

"Where I'm from, I know you." A reedy giggle escapes Klaus's lips. "You're the dorky little virgin. Boring. Pain in my ass."

"Is that why you looked… _happy_ to see me?"

Ben watches in semi-interest, semi-annoyance as Klaus yanks at a new drawer. He dumps it upside-down, scattering old antique jewelry. "It's complicated…" Klaus mutters solemnly. "You're dead so… them's the brakes." He pauses. "Well, you were _already dead_. But then I summoned you _back_ and you died _again_ to save us. Which is kind of how you ended up dead _in the first place_."

"Do you enjoy hearing yourself talk or something?" Ben asks.

"Yeah, actually," Klaus rasps, smiling and groping for a bottle of cognac nearby. "I'm my favorite part of the day."

The corners of Ben's lips twitch up.

Klaus hums to himself merrily and half-dangles out of the opened window. He gazes up at the night sky. "Guess it's still there," Klaus says pensively, nodding to the full moon and turning to Ben. "This is gonna sound weird… but… do I exist here?"

"Klaus Hargreeves?"

Ben waits for an acknowledging noise. The other man gulps a mouthful of the brown-gold liquid. Straight from Dad's liquor cabinet. Ben has no idea how Klaus maneuvered himself into it, but he's not about to snitch to his guardian.

"No," he answers. "There's no record of a Klaus Hargreeves ever existing."

"Allison?"

"Nothing about her."

"Vanny?"

Ben frowns. "Who?"

"How about Diego—"

"Assume _none_ _of you_ exist in this timeline and leave it at that."

"Jeez," Klaus grouches. "You must be fun at parties." He drinks another tasty mouthful of alcohol, cursing when Ben wretches it away. "What's it like being made of birds?" Klaus says nastily. "Do you ever wanna suck on worms and take a leak on cars?"

"What's it like being a useless drunk?" Ben retorts.

He plops down into a maplewood hoop-back chair. A foot or so from Klaus.

"Feels pretty good." Klaus tugs back the cognac bottle, opening his lips wide for more and batting away the other man getting up. The laziest defense move. " _Mm_ ," Klaus grunts, belching. " _Hhm_. For the record—the old Ben had better comebacks."

Something in Ben's chest flares. An unfamiliar anger.

"I'm not him, got it?" he says, scowling. "So you can lower the torch and quit trying to _eye-fuck_ me every chance you get."

Klaus chokes, spitting out alcohol everywhere. A loud hacking.

Ben lets out a low ' _nnnh_!' and wipes off his face with his hands in mortification. Droplets of Klaus all over him. It reeks. Klaus struggles to breathe for a moment. He nurses from the clear and expensive bottle to settle down. Then lowers it.

"Sorry… sorry…" Klaus says hoarsely, gesturing wildly. "Did you…?"

An eye-roll.

"Jesus," Ben murmurs, hitching himself up. This is dumb. This is _so_ dumb. He grips onto Klaus's face with both hands, leaning in and kissing him with a fierce intensity. There's a persistent heat coursing through him, but it's nothing like Ben's powers.

Klaus relaxes, seeming to go still.

Ben pulls away, watching him up close as the slow, shocked realization hits Klaus. The brown cowboy hat already tumbled to the floor. Even then, even if Ben knows this could be fucked… he tugs Klaus off the windowsill and into the chair with Ben, kissing him again. Deeper and more gentle. Klaus's weight straddles on him, his legs apart. His tongue presses inside Ben's mouth.

It feels like Ben knows him. Somehow.

_Somehow._

One of Klaus's hands holds the side of Ben's face, feeling over shaven skin. A middle and ring finger traces his facial scar. Ben remembers that mission. He does, but he doesn't. Ben can't recall a head injury in his case-file while returning from Sweden.

Klaus opens his lips, sliding his tongue against Ben's and muffle-moaning. His hips thrust down.

The hoop-back chair groans under them.

"When did… you learn to kiss…?"

"Shut up," Ben huffs, removing his hands from Klaus's sides to frisk open his pants. There's no buttons or zipper. Ben pulls down the black damask-patterned fabric, his thumbs and fingertips grazing over the round bareness of Klaus's ass.

"This is a _baaad_ idea…" Klaus laments. He arches backwards, furiously scrubbing his face. "And this is coming from _meeeee_ …"

"Just shut up."

_"Ohhhmygodddddd…"_

His long, brown hair fists into Ben's hand. Klaus's dick visibly hardens when Ben yanks him forward, exposing his neck.

"… How about a gag?"

"Yes, please," Klaus whispers, squirming and smiling impishly on Ben's mouth. What a moron. Ben doesn't know why he expected anything else. Suddenly craving touch, Ben drags his palms up Klaus's tattooed front, raking over a line of chest hair.

He lifts his own hips slightly, grinding underneath him, when Klaus's hands lower. They free up his cock.

Ben rumbles out, jacking him, stroking around the inflamed ridge of Klaus's dick. Klaus hisses out in pleasure. Damn, the _noises_. Klaus sounds like he's getting it better than just a hand job. God — _he would_ — Klaus, trapped beneath him on the sheets, with that stupid shit-eating grin; Klaus, accepting every firm, rough thrust of Ben's cock; Klaus, loving every second —

Pre-cum leaks, warm and sticky, over Ben's fingers.

Klaus inclines into him, nose-to-nose, jerking Ben off at a faster pace. He licks over Ben's bottom lip, nibbling down and panting.

"Fuck, this is… _sooo_ … much better than possession…"

The chair groans louder.

Klaus lifts himself over Ben's thighs, then grinds down harder. Practically writhing.

The antique piece of furniture breaks underneath their combined weight, interrupting Ben's orgasm edging in. A holler leaves Klaus's lips. He ends up sprawling out to the attic's hardwood floor, knocking his skull. Ben lands upright on his ass, wide-eyed.

Silence follows. Klaus breaks it too eventually, rasping out a laugh and heaving to his side.

"Never drink and… and fuck," he trills. "Always wear your seat belt."

*

Everything makes sense. Later.

Ben feels like he woke up. Out of a coma, or a half-dream. Three-quarters of a dream, he supposes.

There's new information in his head, and Ben tries to not let it rattle around too loudly. Luther and Diego argue somewhere downstairs. He can hear it through the wrought-iron vent. Vanya mediates the hostility between them.

Oh, Vanya.

_I should have kept on repeating it… and my speech would have been as monotonous… as limited as if I had been transformed into a bird… a bird like that in the fable whose song repeated incessantly the name of whom… when a man… it had loved…_

Ben repeats Proust's lines to himself, calming his nerves.

They have so much to do.

His body aches. A layer of sweat dries on his brow. God, and whatever else is all over his thighs. Probably cum.

Ben postpones a bath, throwing the white sheets over himself, folding his legs to himself and resting a cheek to his kneecaps. Klaus drools and snores softly next to him, lying on his belly. Very naked. He isn't wearing Dave's military tags. That's new. Ben feels himself smirking, reaching over the bed one-handed. He thumbs affectionately over Klaus's shoulder.

"I've missed you, dumbass…"

*

**Author's Note:**

> (If you are curious about the new powers I gave Ben, they're one of the abilities from [a Sparrow Academy member]() and I took the liberty of describing it the way I wanted. It still feels creature-based like the tentacles!)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Little Birdy Told Me You Were Interested](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25932418) by [Le_kunokimchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le_kunokimchi/pseuds/Le_kunokimchi)




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